The Necromancer Who Loved Her
by ZombieOutlaw
Summary: The story of the girl with fire in her hands and the necromancer who loved her. Enoch x Olive (Enolive) - Circus/Freak Show AU. Bookverse and Movieverse muddled together.
1. Prologue: A Bunch of Freaks

**Powers the same as the Movie as I really enjoy the aspect of Olive being very sweet and timid but can kill you, but otherwise all other characters are based primarily on the book with some artistic license. As this is an AU, many details and plot from the book/movies are left out.**

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One would assume that being sold to a travelling circus at the tender age of 16 would ruin a girl as pristine as Olive Elephanta. A circus was not a place for such a delicate flower. Being on the road all year, travelling from city to city, was not suitable for a child. Yet, Olive was determined from the moment she arrived to take this in her stride. She did, after all, belong there as much as the others.

Having fire in her hands made her one of them. People were scared of her, of the destruction she caused. Her own parents forced her there out of fear - their own daughter, all because she was different.

But so were they.

There was a boy not much younger than herself who could predict the future through dreams. Horace was a bit pompous for her taste but he was a nice boy nonetheless and more importantly, he knew how to draw a crowd. The audience would flock to his decadently decorated tent to hear his marvellous predictions - if not his wonderful taste in clothes. He would talk forever to anyone who would listen, whether that was the public or cast mate, which would have driven them all crazy if it wasn't for the amount of pennies he drew in. She never did ask him how he came to be in their peculiar band but she suspected from his clearly rich upbringing that it was more tragic than her own reasons.

Little Claire was a delight to be around and brought joy to whoever she was with. She was not yet allowed on stage being as young as she was but she was allowed to be with them anyway as no one else would have her. It saddened Olive to think that the world could be so cruel to a girl as lovely as Claire. The child was not a danger to anyone, her peculiarity was hidden but she was cast out of society regardless. She was just odd - a freak like all of them - and people hated her for it.

Bronwyn could hold Olive over her head all day if she was allowed. For a girl as small as she was, it was a wonder that she could hold up anything heavier than a suitcase but somehow she managed it. Her equally as powerful older brother, Victor, joined her on stage each night and the two of them amazed with their strength. Olive was told when she joined not to ask questions about why the siblings were with them which intrigued her, but she had heard enough rumours involving an accident and a death to not want to seek answers.

You could always tell Hugh was near by the sudden presence of bees buzzing in the air. She didn't know whether his infestation was magic or whether he just swallowed a load of bees one day and they started to grow inside of him. Olive was only just getting used to the persistent buzzing that followed him around, which was precisely the reason he was given a role in the crew. Occasionally, he was allowed on stage for the briefest of moments, especially when the crowd was being particularly harsh but otherwise he was cooped up backstage doing some heavy lifting. His peculiarity was as annoying as it was wonderful, and they needed paying happy customers not agitated ones.

Fiona, when she was not hovering around Hugh like one of his bees, usually positioned herself out of the tent, marvelling the audience members with her powers over the earth. She never spoke much, but Hugh had told her that she was chased out of her town out of fear of her being a witch. She was safe now, not many suspected her to be a witch anymore. Most people claimed her powers were a hoax, just a series of pulleys and wires all to get ignorant members of the public to cough up money to see more. Her reputation as a con artist was not an issue to her though, people paid anyway.

The star of the show was Emma - the girl who could fly away - who had become a quick friend to Olive. She was talkative, fiery, and quite simply enthralling. People came from all over the country just to see her. They didn't care if it was trick or real, Emma gave such a performance that it didn't make a difference. If she didn't have her abilities, Olive was sure people would still have paid just to see her. Some people just had it, and Emma was definitely one of them.

Miss Peregrine was their leader and the namesake of their circus. She was as loving as she was stern, keeping the children inline while also giving them the feeling of a mother who cared for them. Olive would never be able to repay the kindness she had shown her. Taking her away from the family that was scared of her, giving her food and shelter when she needed it the most, introducing her to a new family who loved her.

And then there was Enoch.

Olive had been with them a year and so far she'd only managed to get a few words out of the boy that weren't insults (not for lack of trying). He was crew, on strict orders not to talk to the public so as to not scare them off. To put it politely, Enoch was pessimistic. It was a running joke that at any given moment, at least one member of their trope was annoyed at Enoch. He was far from a people person. But that was exactly why Olive was drawn to him. He was an enigma. One she was so desperate to solve.

It was common knowledge that he fancied Emma. Everyone teased him about it which was met with curt replies that only confirmed their theories. Olive had caught him staring at her a few times as the blonde girl performed and had to remind her self that the ache in her chest was just from nerves and not jealousy. He was not hers and never would be.

But that didn't mean she couldn't be his friend.


	2. Of Elephants and Cake

**Sorry about the formatting issues - I hate , it's not my primary fanficton site.**

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Life in a travelling show was as hectic as you'd assume. Olive rose with the sun, got ready every morning with little to no running water, and had a list of chores to do before she even thought of grabbing some breakfast. It was hard work, but someone had to do it, everyone had to muck in to keep things running.

Early on in her stay with the group, Miss Peregrine had discovered her skill with the younger children so her first job every morning was taking care of getting little Claire ready for the day. As jobs went, it was one of the better ones around the campground; Olive never was envious of the boys - usually Enoch, Victor and Hugh as Horace somehow managed to get away with making himself scarce almost every morning - hauling things around in the cold, brisk morning air. Their cheeks were always rosy by the time they came back inside and Enoch, on the odd occasion, had a few stings that he immediately tended to from where Hugh had decided to punish his ill-behaviour.

Claire was more chipper than usual that morning which surprised Olive. Normally, waking the girl up from her slumber was quite a hard task and getting her out of bed was even harder. The second she had managed to wake her up, she abruptly began squabbling about her favourite type of cakes.

"What are you on about, Claire?" Olive muttered out of confusion as she pulled the girls hair out of her eyes and tied it.

"Miss Peregrine said the mayor's wife is coming today so we can buy a cake!"

"Oh well that's lovely."

It was something to get excited over. Rich and respectable people coming to watch the show meant more money and more guests which in turn led to more food. They didn't get many treats, all their money went on travel expenses and repairs to the equipment so the idea of having cake was something to smile about.

Claire immediately started asking about her favourite type of cake which Olive was more than happy to return her enthusiasm. She didn't mind indulging Claire in her fantasies, in someways they kept her as entertained as they did the young girl.

The precise moment she chose to finish dreaming about cakes and step out of the caravan shared by Claire and Bronwyn, she was cornered by the ever punctual Miss Peregrine.

"Olive, be a dear and go ask Enoch to get the elephant out. We need to put on a show tonight!"

As quickly as she appeared, Miss Peregrine flew off to attend to the next job of the day leaving Olive to slowly make her way over to the big top tent in search for the grouchy stagehand.

She'd been trying to talk to Enoch properly for weeks now but so far had been unsuccessful. He was going to be her friend, she was determined to make it happen - everyone deserved at least one friend, even Enoch. He was always so lonely, always alone tending to his numerous creations. She hated to see anyone that isolated and she was determined to change that.

...It didn't at all have anything to do with the fact she found him attractive.

Walking into the large open tent, she immediately called out for him not willing to walk around backstage with all his creations without him to guide her. While Enoch's work was amazing, some of the things he created could only be described as creepy.

When he didn't reply after a few seconds, Olive ventured forward to the side of the stage. Cautiously, she peaked round the corner and saw him, crouched over his latest creation, his brows furrowed together in concentration.

Admittedly, she stayed there longer than she should have done, admiring the dark haired boy at work. To have skills like his, both of the practical and magical variety, must have been wonderful. His peculiarity wasn't at all as dangerous as her's; whereas she was destruction, he could give life. It amazed her every time she saw it happen.

It surprised her that Enoch never got much attention from the opposite sex. He was quite handsome after all but she supposed his rotten attitude scared anyone from even trying to pursue a relationship with him. Even Olive, one of the few members of the company able to stand Enoch and his negativity, could understand why Emma had not returned the feelings Enoch obviously held for her.

The feeling of his eyes on her prompted her to straighten suddenly. Enoch was looking up from his work, clearly annoyed at being disrupted, and was glaring straight at her. Her cheeks were glowing as red as her hair and the movement of his eyes towards them confirmed that he had noticed her state of embarrassment.

"Do you need any help?" Olive stuttered, pretending that he probably hadn't grasped that she had been there an abnormally long time.

He didn't answer her question, choosing instead to throw down his tools and stood up to meet her. Immediately she felt out of place, she was an intruder, she didn't belong here. This was his space, and it was sacred.

"Shouldn't you be off setting something fire? What do you want?" Enoch snapped at her, steadily striding towards her in a way that was meant to intimidate.

Part of her wanted to run away right that second. He didn't want her there, that much was clear. But she was there for a reason (well two technically) and she wasn't going to leave before she at least relayed Miss Peregrine's message.

"Must you always be so mean?" Her arms crossed across her chest, hoping to find some strength from such a defensive move. His intense stare was beginning to bore into her and Olive began to realise the true meaning of 'if looks could kill'.

"Yes."

"Well, it's not very nice." She replied quietly.

Her response made the dark natured boy scoff. Of course it wasn't very nice - that was the whole point.

Olive could sense the mood had lightened slightly from her obvious remark, which dared her to speak again. "Miss Peregrine wants an elephant for tonight - Claire said something about the mayoress coming."

"Oh we must put on quite the show for someone as prestigious as that." His sarcasm cut through the cold air like a bullet as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, still trying to make her disappear by his stern look.

"Do you take pleasure in being so negative all the time?"

"Oh sod off." Enoch grumbled at her. His arms flew up a little to shoo her away, displaying more emotion in one sentence that she'd seen the entire time she'd been with the company.

She should have given up on him but she was resilient on becoming his friend. She had a good mind to leave him there and then and she went as far as to turn quickly to leave. If he wasn't going to play nice, she wasn't going to play at all.

Instead of walking out of that place she stopped mid-stride, turned back on her heels and looked up at him hopefully. "Claire says there's going to be cake tonight. Isn't that exciting?"

"Hmmm...Very."

She could only just make out his disinterested reply as he walked back towards his work, clearly done with the conversation - and with her.

Huffing, Olive marched out of the tent, passing Bronwyn at the door carrying more chairs than was natural, and away from his company. She couldn't understand how anyone could be so rude all the time. It's not like she deserved it, she was only trying to make conversation with him but he acted like she was there purely to antagonise him.

If he was going to be like that, maybe she didn't want to be his friend.


	3. Of Kindness and Progress

Another night, another show complete and a party was in full swing at in the big mess tent. The room was buzzing with excitement yet Olive could not put on finger on what they were celebrating. Miss Peregrine was in an uncharacteristically jovial mood and had treated them all not only to cake but to mulled wine, pastries, and other goodies purchased from the local bakery. She had even let them put a dusty record or two on that she had pulled out from her old collection. There was much speculation floating around the tent as to what their sudden indulgence was for - Hugh joked that Miss Peregrine had finally found a man, Emma was of the opinion that they had taken in more ticket sales that usual, and Horace was no help at all claiming that the only thing he had seen in his dreams was Miss Peregrine talking to an empty room.

Maybe it was the festive atmosphere, or possibly the mulled wine which made Olive not think about her hopefully soon-to-be friend but the moment she heard his name mentioned in passing while conversing with Hugh and Fiona (well, Hugh mostly), her eyes began searching the tent for him. It was ample opportunity to get a real conversation with him, surely he'd a least had a sip of the wine and had loosen up enough to not insult her every sentence? Olive would have expected him to be stood in the corner, looking uncomfortable and quietly enjoying the rare food that was on offer to him but he was no where to be seen.

Enoch had never been one for parties but there was no more people than usual, it was just a little bit merrier than normal. She thought it wasn't a good enough explanation for his non-attendance and her mind had begun to wander the real reason behind it. Was he ill? Was he upset about something? Had Hugh's teasing gone too far?

Abruptly, she was removed from her thoughts by Hugh laughing at one of his own jokes and unexpectedly expelling a swarm of bees around their heads. Swatting a few of the flying creatures away from her, she spotted Emma across the tent and made an excuse for herself and quickly made her escape from Hugh's bad puns.

Emma was hovering around the buffet table, looking as airy as ever, lost deep in thought presumably about what she would eat next. Finally deciding on taking one of the danishes laid out in a decadent pattern on a tray, Emma reached forward a little too enthusiastically towards the food, catching Olive's eyes as she approached her. A cheeky grin spread across her face before she took a bite of the item, savouring every taste.

"Where's Enoch?" Olive asked when she reached the girl's side. Perhaps she should have been a little more discreet about asking questions directly about Enoch but something about the blondes glowing features and cheerful demeanour suggested to Olive that she would avoid Emma's suspicions that night.

Bobbing her head to the music, Emma's eyebrows shot up in surprise - no one asked after Enoch, ever. "Outside sulking somewhere probably, why?"

Chewing on her lip, Olive glanced around the room out of awkwardness. Horace was tucked away in the corner of the room, exquisitely dressed in a full three-piece suit, and chatting away to a bored looking Victor about the accuracy of horoscopes. The whole image would have entertained her greatly if it wasn't for the feeling of possibly being interrogated by Emma for her shady behaviour.

"He's missing everything..."

"Well you know him well enough by now, this is a party - he hates them. They are too alive for him," Emma beamed at her for a moment, giving Olive an opportunity to laugh at her joke however, a lack of a reaction from Olive made her eyes roll. "Oh come on, that was funny!"

While trying to avoid holding eye contact with Emma, Olive's eyes lingered on the Victoria Sponge cake in front of her with only a few pieces left giving her an idea.

"I'm sure he'd at least like some cake. Do you have any idea where he might be?"

"Why do you even try so hard with him, Olive? He's not going to change - once a pessimist, always a pessimist." Emma retorted with a mouthful of pastry. "You sure it's got nothing to do with the fact you lust after his sultry dark looks?"

Olive's eyes went wide in horror but was relieved of her worry when Emma knocked her shoulder into her's with a giggle. Clearly she had meant nothing from it and suspected nothing.

Olive had never really thought of Enoch like that before. She always thought he was handsome, there was no doubt about that, but lusting after him? Surely not. All she wanted was to be his friend, not to kiss him or anything of the sort... Although, the thought of that was not off putting in the slightest. However, the smallest thought about Enoch in that way made all the blood in her body rushed to her face and Olive was certain if Emma wasn't already suspicious, she would be the moment she looked at her face.

"He's lonely-"

"-by choice." Emma interrupted before putting the poor girl out of her misery and finally answered her question. "I think Hugh mentioned something about him going to mope in his place."

The cold air tried to bite at her warm skin as she glided across the grass, cake in hand, towards Enoch's trailer. No one that she knew of had been inside of his trailer except for Miss Peregrine so she was apprehensive of what she would find there. She expected there to be hearts - lots of them, and more or less the same layout of hers but there must have been some personal items in there, things he doesn't want to display in public, things he would rather keep to himself. Maybe his trailer would help Olive to unravel some of the mystery that was Enoch O'Connor.

The trailer was slightly out of the way of the others, he always made sure it was every time they moved, and Olive presumed it must be rather isolating for him to be so far away. She understood, as Emma had said, that this was his own doing but the thought of someone hating company that much was rather sad.

When she reached the door to his solemn trailer, Olive stopped for a moment and considered just leaving the cake there and going away without speaking to him. Quickly, she dispelled that notion from her head, reminding herself that if she wanted to be friends with she'd actually have to talk to him.

After taking a deep breath, she raised a rubber covered hand and gave the door a firm knock.

It was a few seconds before she heard any acknowledgement of a presence at the door. Then, just as she was thinking of leaving, a chair was scraped across the floor and there were footsteps coming slowly closer to the door that grew louder every step.

Sensing his trepidation, Olive called out to him. "Enoch, it's just me."

"Again?" He groaned from behind the door, not seeming interested in opening it to anyone let alone her.

"Yes." She started rocking on her feet to distract her from the hostility he was showing and tried to sound as positive as she could. "I've brought cake."

"Erm okay...I don't really like cake."

"Everyone likes cake."

Olive heard him sigh from behind the door and was surprised to hear the locks to his door being turned. The door was cracked open slightly to reveal a confused looking Enoch peering out at her with great apprehension. His hair was dishevelled, sticking out at odd ends like he had been running his hands through it out of frustration, and the bags under his eyes were darker than usual. Something was wrong, she could tell.

"Yeah... alright, you got me. Now hand it here so you can leave."

Stepping out of his trailer slightly, he reached a hand out to hers, waiting to receive the cake she had brought but all Olive could do was stare at his hand like it was a foreign object. It was a small enough gesture, reaching out to someone but coming from him it just seemed...odd.

Olive, realising that she was staring, quickly handed over the food to him, careful not to let her fingers linger too long against his hand.

"Why aren't you at the party? Miss Peregrine is letting the older ones have some wine you know?"

Noticing Olive's eyes dart cautiously behind him to peak a look at his space, Enoch hastily drew the door close behind him before replying. "I don't like parties. Too many people."

"There's just as many people as usual, just a bit more jolly I suppose...Well it must be better than cooped up here all alone."

"It isn't - hence why I chose to coop up here all alone."

Enoch was undoubtedly mocking her, he didn't want her company, and it was clear now to Olive would have gone so far as to say he didn't like her at all. She didn't know what convinced her to continue the conversation but somehow, she wanted to.

"Is it the music? Do you not like loud noises or something?"

"If I didn't like music do you think I'd live in a bloody carnival?" He groaned. Somehow managing to convey his displeasure at her through hardly changing his facial expression.

"Maybe you didn't have a choice." Olive softly suggested - that was her reality, it was very possible that it was his too.

"I'm nearly 18, even if didn't have one, I certainly have now."

"Why not just leave?"

"You ask way too many questions." Enoch muttered, taking hold of the door handle behind him and hoping Olive got the message that he wished for her to leave him be. However, the red-head stood resilient.

"I'm just trying to be friendly." Olive retorted softly. There was a timidness about her which radiated through her words despite the confidence she was displaying.

"Yeah well, maybe I don't want a friend."

"Well that's a very cynical thing to say."

"I'm a cynical person... And you're annoying so please leave." His voice was raised slightly now, his cold disposition lost as he began snapping at her.

"You know being nice every now and then, it won't kill you." She tried to sound jokingly, attempting to lighten the mood a little, however it came out very half-heartedly. She knew it was a stab in the dark but she was willing to try it.

The jovial mood was lost on Enoch as he glared at her like she was vermin. "Debatable. I hope I never get to find out."

Olive was beginning to lose her temper with him now. He was being insufferable, an absolute swine, and all of it because she was trying to be nice to him. "How do you live being so negative?"

"Bye, now." He forced a sarcastic smile which antagonised her more than she would like to admit.

She hoped he'd choke on that cake.

Angrily, Olive let out a unexpected squeak and stormed off into the cold night air without giving him a goodbye.

"Hey, Olive."

Throwing her arms down to her sides in protest, she spun around to face him again. "Enoch, if you're just going to insult me again I swear-"

"-thank you. For the cake, I mean."

He nodded and raised his hand in gesture of the cake before turning to open the door and disappeared into his reclusive trailer.

Olive was left staring at the empty space he had just occupied, confused at what had just occurred. Enoch O'Connor had thanked her. As in he actually thought to use his manners - he was being nice. A smile appeared on her face and a feeling of promise grew inside her as she congratulated herself on making progresses on getting through to him even if it was something as menial as using some manners.

Maybe there was still hope for their friendship.


	4. Of Letters and Splinters

Popping the collar on his coat, Enoch O'Connor stepped out of the post office into the brisk winter air, determined to return back to the campground as quickly as possible. It was well into November and the sleepy Welsh town they were currently stationed was almost entirely covered in a sheet of frost which crunched satisfyingly underneath his feet as he walked on the narrow pavement. He could feel the hateful glares of the townsfolk as he passed them and, while he knew it was probably his imagination exaggerating things, it took everything in his power not to snap at one of them for looking at him the wrong way. Whether it was an hostility towards his intensely negative aura, or just a general distaste towards circus folk, Enoch did not feel anything close to a warm welcome from the town.

Miss Peregrine had cast a skeptical look when the young man had offered to run into town for her after breakfast that morning. He couldn't tolerate all the bothersome people in town, the dreadful small talk, the false smiles; he hated people, and they hated him back. Enoch was not polite - ever, and couldn't usually be trusted with town errands for fear he might scare off whoever he needed to speak to with his bad manners. Assuring his guardian that he would actual try to be tolerable enough to get the jobs done, he was allowed to relieve Horace of his daily walk into town to collect various foods and items.

That morning was quite a success, even to Enoch's standards. He'd managed to avoided getting into a fight with the mouth-breathing butcher over the price of his cuts, mumbled his way through picking up some items from the local tailor, and had even suffered through the elderly woman behind the counter at the florist unmistakably flirting with him as he tried to place an order for later on in the week. Finishing with plenty of time before he would be expected back, Enoch had successfully created enough time to take a detour to the post office to take care of some personal matters.

Truth be told he had a reason for going into town that morning. Miss Peregrine had sussed it the moment he offered, Horace knew when he told him not to bother going out, and Olive's watchful gaze on him as he left was unmissable. He needed to send a letter, one he had written and rewritten what seemed like hundreds of times over the night before, one that carried more importance than just niceties and news. It was critical that he sent it, the receiver deserved to know what he had to say.

It didn't take him too long to return to the grounds where he was quickly met by Fiona silently shuffling over to him to take the food he had bought and hurried out of sight presumably over to the kitchen. Miss Peregrine just smiled at him when he handed her the clothes and left over change, she was one of the few people that liked him and his negative way of being. Ideally, he'd sneak over to behind the stage and stay there for the rest of the day, feverishly working on his next project and not see another soul for hours. However, the moment he stepped into the tent, his dreams were quickly destroyed.

"You went into town?"

Olive.

The voice coming from behind him was instantly recognisable.

He let out an audible groan as he turned around to meet her warm gaze, subjecting her to his infamous death glare. Usually, he enjoyed looking at Olive, something about her was enchanting to him, so much so he often found himself stealing glances at her at any given opportunities. However, her presence was not appreciated at that current time, he didn't want to talk to anyone, especially someone as inquisitive as Olive.

"What about it?" He grumbled.

Even Enoch was surprised at how bitter his reply sounded. Olive asked too many questions. Too many questions that he was not prepared to answer - to anyone. She wanted too much from him, more than he was prepared to give, and was relentless in her pursuit of answers.

Unexpectedly, her expression did not falter and she continued to hold eye contact with him, clearly his sharp manner did not seem to wither her spirits . "You never go."

He pretended that he did not notice the soft exposed skin of her neck or how her hair fell slightly over her eyes as she tilted her head to one side.

Looking around the tent, he rushed to find something to keep him occupied, to distract him from her interrogation. "I'm not justifying my actions to you."

"I never asked." Olive took a step closer to him, her gloved hands started to fidget as she began to question her own actions.

"You were going to." He glanced over to her and the sheepish look growing on her face confirmed his theory. "Why are you trying so much Olive? It's annoying"

"I think you need a friend."

Enoch frowned at her forwardness and started to walk further into the labyrinth that was back stage, anxious to escape the girl and her piercing eyes.

The closest he'd ever had to a friend in his life was the corpses in his family's shop and he certainly wasn't looking to gain one anytime soon. Enoch supposed he would call Victor a friend, the two talked, they used to share a trailer when they were younger meaning he knew more than he'd like about the guy but they never were that close.

"What I mean is - something is wrong with you at the moment and I though someone should at least be nice to you." The confidence in her voice began to wither but Enoch was unsure whether this was due to the growing awkwardness of the situation or her rushing to keep up with his long strides.

"I don't want you to."

She reached and grabbed his arm to stop him from going any further, and yanked him round to face her. The heat radiating through his clothes from her hands started warming the skin underneath making him shiver. He was reminded of how dangerous she was, what damage she could potentially do, how she could kill him in seconds if she so wished, and yet it felt surprisingly satisfying.

"A lot of people don't want things that can help them."

He could tell from the look on her face how much she wanted this - to be his friend, to be nice to him. It seemed foreign to him that someone would go to so much trouble just for him, he certainly didn't deserve it. She was an annoyingly good person, too good, and Enoch couldn't help but stare at her like she was an alien creature.

For some reason he found her more irritating than the rest of their little family combined. More so than when Hugh or Horace would jokingly tease him about fancying Emma because of that one comment he made to Victor years ago about having a little crush on her when he was eight. More annoying than Claire's excessive whining whenever he refused to play with her. Something about her in particular made his blood boil.

Suddenly, as if his brain advanced up gear, he went into overdrive, tearing himself out of her grasp and began frantically to move around some wood Miss Peregrine had asked him to clear up days ago.

"Just leave me alone, Olive." He grunted, throwing pieces of wood from one place to another like his life depended on it.

"No." Her voice held strong, almost making him flinch with how resolute she wonder she was good with the children - she had a great tone for discipling.

Feeling like a naughty schoolboy, the pieces of wood began to fall on the floor with a loud thump, hoping to scare her off from his rage. Enoch was unsure why he was so worked up - he didn't want her there, he knew that, and yet somehow she made him remorseful for thinking that way. If it was anyone else he was sure he would have kept his cool, but no, it was Olive with her fire and her constant stream of questions.

And then, almost as if the universe was punishing him itself for his temper, he threw a piece of wood to the floor a little too awkwardly causing a burning tingle in his hand. The familiar stinging sensation of a flake of wood piercing his skin was undeniable.

"Shit." Enoch murmured under his breath, quickly looking at his palm where he was beginning to draw blood. The wood had caught him rather nastily.

"What is it?"

"It's nothing... just a splinter" He muttered, careful to shield his hand from her but from the concerned look on her face, he predicted he had been unsuccessful.

"That doesn't look like 'just a splinter' to me - you're bleeding."

Despite the blood, it didn't hurt, just stung in that annoying way splinters did.

"I can see that." He deadpanned.

"Come with me." Olive spun to leave, expecting him to follow her but when she glanced back a few metres later, he was still glued to the spot. "Now."

Automatically, her stern voice made him follow her without a second thought. Somehow, the innocent, immaculate girl scared him, and it wasn't because of the fire in her hands.

She lead him towards her trailer, occasionally looking back to check if he was still following her. Once they arrived, she motioned for him to wait outside as she went in to retrieve whatever she was looking for. Standing there as awkwardly as a someone meeting their partner's parents for the first time, Enoch felt his campmates eyes on him, their heads filled with questions about what the two were up to. He was certain that there were going to rumours about them, especially in regards to their relationship status, which was something else for him to grumble about later. Yet, somehow he believed (and hoped) this will finally put an end to all the jokes about him having a crush on Emma when they were little.

Triumphant in her search, Olive returned with a first aid kit and he realised his hand was in for a full examination. It was only a splinter, all he needed was a pair of tweezers and he would have been good to go; Olive was making a big deal over nothing.

"I'm fine-" Enoch tried to persuade her, only to be cut off by her rigid tone.

"-sit." She placed a stool down in front of him and pointed at it, determined to glare at him until he followed her orders which didn't take long. No wonder she was good with dealing with the little kids, she compelled Enoch to do as he was told in a matter of seconds.

Standing over him to ensure that he didn't escape, she began to root around in the bag, looking for something to remove the tiny piece of wood from his hand. "Honestly, if you weren't in a strop throwing pieces off wood around this wouldn't have happened."

Whether it was Olive's words or his own reflection on the events, Enoch felt apologetic towards his previous actions. He had been riled up, angry at something he couldn't control and took it out on Olive (and some wood) just because she happened to be there. It wasn't fair - yes she was being irritating, but snapping at her was not the way to deal with it.

"I was annoyed." His voice had soften slightly having almost completely cooled off from his rage. It had been accumulating for sometime now and it felt nice to get it out of his system, but that didn't mean he was going to start getting all friendly with her - she was still rather annoying after all.

"I could see that." He saw her glance at him tentatively, questioning whether she should press the matter even further. "Sorry."

Her apology had taken Enoch by surprise, if anyone needed to apologise here it was him. "What you sorry for?"

"Annoying you..." She sighed, finally pulling a pair of tweezes from her bag after looking for them for quite a while. It was clear she was one of those people who would apologise for someone else bumping into them, but he could tell she felt bad about the whole ordeal and, even though he didn't agree with her need to apologise, he appreciated it.

"You don't need to apologise, I get annoyed at most people."

Olive smiled at him amusedly before drawing up a chair in front of him, dropped the bag next to it and sat down gesturing to him to let her take a look at him. Rolling up his coat sleeves to give her better access, he reluctantly presented his palm to her which had fortunately stopped bleeding. Taking it in her gloved ones, Olive cradled his hand like it was a precious jewel, careful not to hurt him further. He was uncomfortable, the feeling of someone else touching was strange to him, it didn't normally happen, yet he sat through it determined to get this over and done with as quickly as possible.

As she started to try and remove the wood with the tweezers, Enoch began to wonder how hard it was to handle such delicate tools while wearing a thick pair of gloves. They must have been uncomfortable and hard to function with. Against his nature, he decided to question the girl on the matter.

"Do you ever take them off - the gloves?"

His question surprised her. Olive certainly wasn't expecting him to be interested in her life - at all, especially after he'd made quite the show getting angry at her for doing the same thing. Her reply was distant. "Not really, just to use my power, and you know - washing and stuff."

"Can you not control - "

Enoch was interrupted when he felt the sweet relief of the object being removed from his body as Olive grinned at him victoriously, holding up the tweezer and showing him the culprit. She was right, it was more than just a splinter - it was at least 2 inches of a thin piece of wood. Enoch let a rare smirk grow on his face at the proudness she displayed at being right, strangely he found himself being quite amused.

She precariously reached down to search the bag once again, still holding his hand as she did so and he instinctively found himself flipping his hand over and grasping it, cautious not to let her fall. His body's natural reactions felt odd, but he didn't question them until afterwards, he was only trying to stop her from falling after all. When she came back up with a bottle in her hand, he quickly turned his palm to face her as he became aware of the redness his cheeks had started to develop from his unconscious movement.

Luckily, sensing an awkward undertone growing in the conversation, Olive answered his question, staring at his wound which Enoch sensed was to an effort to avoid looking at him. "I haven't really tried...When all this started, I did try to find something that could stop me as quickly as I could. Didn't manage it fast enough though. I remember one night about a couple of weeks before I arrived here - this may sting a little -" She referred to the bottle of iodine she was going to use on him before continuing, "I burnt my bed to a crisp one night and my mum got burnt on her hands the next day from trying to calm me down. The burns were that deep she was in hospital for the best part of a week...It didn't take long for my parents to pay somebody to take me off of their hands."

He stared at her, admiring her honesty as she poured the substance over his palm. It must have been awful being scared of your own power. Sometime he frightened himself with what he could do to the dead or the things he makes, but he'd never been frightened that he would harm someone because of it. His creations did what he told them to do, he could protect the people he loved, not kill them.

It was obvious that she had told him something she wouldn't just say in casual conversation. Enoch had no idea why she wanted to share it with him of all people, he was a grouch, and a mean one at that. He could tell from how her brow had furrowed during her anecdote that it was took a lot for her to share that with him, and he couldn't help but feel honoured that she had chosen him. It felt alien to him, but he sensed the need to share something with her too.

"My parent's were scared of me too. My dad used to lock me up in the basement until I promised to stop playing with the dead people...I never did." He quietly confided to her, unsure of how she would respond. This was new territory to Enoch and he wasn't sure whether or not he liked it. Luckily, Olive didn't seem to mind that he wanted to convey something to her and Enoch couldn't help but notice the small smile that appeared on her face at his reference to his stubbornness. She was rather beautiful when she smiled.

Pulling out the bandage she had placed in her lap earlier, she started to dress his wound which Enoch would have argued was unnecessarily if he wasn't distracted by staring at her. "Did you get sent away too?"

Part of him wanted to get angry at her again for asking questions but he managed to rein it in choosing instead to force out an answer. "I ran."

"Oh." Her brows furrowed once more as she digested the information, carefully tying the bandage as she did so. When she was finished, she beamed up at him once more with bright eyes. "All done! I'm no doctor but I think you're going to live."

Enoch felt cold the moment she dropped his hand from her warm ones and strangely felt himself craving her warmth again. He wasn't quite sure what to think at that moment, one second he was shouting at her, the next her was finding her company comforting. All he knew was he spent a long time staring at the girl he would have sworn he hated only hours previously. He knew she wanted him to stay around and talk a bit more but he need to think, to ponder what on earth was going on with him, and he need to do it where she wasn't there to distract him. Hastily saying his thanks, he got up from the chair and took his leave, leaving the red head girl watching him as he went.

As he strode away to go confine himself backstage with his work, Enoch couldn't help producing a slight smile which was very noticeable on his usual monotonous face. He supposed she wasn't too bad company when she wasn't badgering him with unwanted questions. She was nice, funny even, and was much more interesting than the majority of people he met. He'd even go as far to say he _enjoyed_ the time he spent with her.


	5. Of Arrivals and Misunderstandings

There was an air of excitement in the mess tent the next morning, mainly due to the uncharacteristic absence of Miss Peregrine from the head of the table but Olive sensed some of the mood was rooted in childish chatter regarding the relationship status of her and a certain stagehand. Living in a traveling show was surprisingly mundane so any scrap of gossip was quickly spread around the camp like wildfire and it was apparent that her friends had found her encounter with Enoch the day before something to discuss.

They were seen together for only a few minutes and already there were rumours flying around. Claire had asked her that morning when she was getting her ready whether Enoch and her were going to get married which had made Olive chuckle. Horace had made a comment when she came for breakfast about watching out for them in his dreams. Emma had nudged her slightly when she took her usual place next to her at the breakfast table, cheerfully smirking at her in recognition that she was aware there was no truth to the rumours but still found the ordeal amusing. It was all in good jest, so Olive did not find the ordeal terribly awkward but there was a sense that after a few days of this, it would become extremely annoying.

Movement from the entrance caught everyones' eyes and the whole of the tent found themselves turning around to catch a glimpse of who they expected to be Miss Peregrine coming into the tent. Their suspicions were incorrect and, instead of their incisive looking guardian, Enoch trudged through the doorway, looking more grumpy than ever like he had just woken up. Throwing a cutting glare at all who were staring at him, he lumbered over to the kitchenette area to grab a plate. It wasn't difficult for Olive realise that he had not got much sleep the night before from the heavy appearance of his eyes and the general grogginess that was apparent from his sluggish movements. While the others went back to what they were doing previously, Olive's eyes followed his movements, desperate to ask him what was bothering him so deeply that he had trouble sleeping over. She was not tempted to do so though, he'd made it very clear that her questions annoyed him and, admittedly, she seemed to get more answers from him when she was not asking him a million questions.

Pulling her thoughts away from Enoch and his wellbeing, Miss Peregrine glided into the tent, gesturing behind her as pulled out the chair next to hers at the table for someone to sit at. "This is Millard Nullings, he will be joining us from now on."

Instantly, their heads eagerly turned to look for the new arrival only to see that nobody else had entered the tent.

"There's no one there?" Hugh confusedly spluttered though a mouthful of toast, letting out the odd bee as he tried to enunciate his words.

"Millard?" Miss Peregrine called out, holding out her arms to usher the new boy in however all that appeared was some floating clothes.

"Is this a trick?" Horace piped up from the other end of the table, just as confused as the rest of them.

"Sadly not." A voice replied out of nowhere and confirmed to them all what they were thinking but choosing not to believe.

"You're invisible?" Hugh called out.

"I never knew that!" A sarcasm only Enoch could match erupted out of thin air and Olive instantly decided she was going to like this boy - he had spark.

Bronwyn, pursing her lips, turned her head to the side trying to see if another angle changed how the boy looked at all. "Do you even have a body?"

The boy nodded and then was quickly ushered by their guardian to take a seat. Miss Peregrine indicated to Fiona to serve up Millard some breakfast as she took her seat of the table, content with how calm the introduction had gone. New arrivals were rarely accepted amongst the company. They were too paranoid and constantly on the look out for potential threats so it was rare for someone new to get a warm welcome. "We'll have to be careful how we use his talents in our show, we don't want people knowing too much about us."

With having such an obvious peculiarity, it was easy to hold no suspicions against the boy. It was evident that if he was planning anything malicious, his oddity was so extreme that it would harm him most of all.

"What are the shoes for?" Millard attempted to start a conversation as he hesitantly made his way to his seat, hat nodding at the unmissable lead shoes Emma bore on her feet.

"They keep me from floating away." Emma gracefully smiled at him as he took his place across from her, careful to give the boy as pleasant as a welcome as possible.

"Oh, that's odd." He looked up at Fiona as she placed a plate full of everything they had to offer in front of him (Olive suspected there was a smile on his unseeable face), before pointing over at Olive and the gloves that adorned her hands. "And the gloves?"

"Um," Olive took a moment to think of the best way to describe her ability, "I set things on fire."

"Wow. I'd love to study that! I'm Millard by the way." The invisible boy replied enthusiastically, starting to cut into his meal as the entire table watched to see how exactly he was able to eat.

"I'm Emma and this is Olive," Emma waved her fork towards the other girl, "We hope you have a nice time here with us..."

Emma trailed off as she was interrupted by the sudden presence of Enoch hovering around them. A chair was dragged across the wooden planks that had been placed on the floor to keep out the dirt and Enoch unceremoniously dropped down into the the seat next to Olive. Immediately he began to play with his breakfast, moving eggs around his plate all while keeping a watchful eye on the new arrival. The territorial act was peculiar for the boy and certainly did not go unnoticed from the people sitting around the table. Olive could almost hear the speculations that must have been going through their heads' from his actions.

"...This is Enoch." Emma forced through a fake smile, throwing a cautious peek over to the boy who'd bluntly interrupted them. Enoch's hostility towards Millard was radiating out of him and everyone in the room could sense it.

Spearing a sausage while glaring at the floating hat across the table from him, Enoch grunted in reply.

"Pleasure." Millard's hat bobbed uncertainly, intimidated by the death glare he was receiving.

Gulping, Olive boldly stole a glance at Enoch beside her. She was slowly becoming increasingly more aware of his presence next to her, of how close he was to touching her, how she could almost feel the aggression his body was expelling. Olive wasn't quite sure whether she found his display irritable or attractive.

"How's the hand?" Olive asked uncertainly, she knew how much he hated questions but she was sure he wouldn't find her small talk all that pressing.

"Fine - I was just a splinter after all, nothing major." He groaned but Olive noted the playful tone that underlined his complaining. Clearly he was in a much better mood than he looked. Or maybe it was the fact he'd successfully stopped Millard from talking to her.

"You were bleeding."

Enoch's eyes almost rolled into the back of his head, emphasising over-dramatically how ridiculous her worry was. "Only a lit-"

"- We don't need to see you two flirting at the breakfast table, it's nauseating. Thank you very much." Hugh's voice forced the two of them out of their own private bubble as the both twisted their heads to glare at his smug grin, evidently ecstatic that he now had something new to bother Enoch about.

Enoch grumbled something under his breath as he went back to carelessly sawing into some bacon, a hint of redness appeared on his otherwise pale complexion. Silence fell between them for the remainder of their breakfast, neither one daring to talk or even look at the other again out of embarrassment.

"Looks like someone is getting possessive." Emma sung as she walked into the kitchen, dropping her plate straight into the water basin and started to scrub. Her eyes carried a mischievous tint to them as she grinned at the girl drying off her own plate who was already blushing like a tomato.

"There's nothing going on. Besides, he likes you anyway." Olive replied hastily, a little too hastily to be unaffected by the subject matter however Emma seemed too preoccupied on her words to notice.

"Enoch O'Connor does not fancy me!" She scoffed, scrunching up her nose at the thought of Enoch liking her in that way. "I'd know."

Olive was taken aback. She was certain it was true, she had never thought to question it the entire time she had been there. It was supposed to be a fact, something everyone knew that went without speaking. "But- Everyone always mentions it?"

"He did fancy me - back when we were really little but that's just because I was the only girl back then."

"Oh." Olive sounded rather fostered as she placed her plate on the side with the others, "But he always stares at you, especially when you're on stage."

"Maybe he is just watching the show..." Emma murmured, gently nudging the other girl out of the way as she reached for another towel to dry her plate.

"Yeah..." Olive uttered softly, looking everywhere but at Emma in an attempt to not raise any questions from the girl.

"Oh. My. Goodness!" Emma slowly let her hands drop to place the plate on the side with the others while turning to gape at Olive, her face with a cross between shock and excitement.

To say Olive resembled a deer in headlights would be accurate. "W-what?"

"You like Enoch, don't you?"

"No - I mean - I like him as a friend - Nothing more." She stuttered nervously. Olive was finding it hard enough to convince herself of that let alone Emma.

"If you say so."

She tried her best to sound confident in her reply in a bid to persuade Emma. "I don't."

"Sure." Emma snickered with raised eyebrows, doubtful she was getting the full truth.

"I don't-" Olive statement was cut short when Hugh, smiling at them as he passed, made his way to the sink which was close enough to hear their conversation. "- fancy Enoch," Olive finished in a hush tone.

Emma only had to grin mischievously at the girl to make her blush once more. She didn't believe a single word she was saying.


	6. Of Anger and Rum

To say her day was ruined would be an understatement.

Olive's day was spoiled, shattered, all hope of her having a good day had been destroyed in little under a minute. She stared down at the incriminating object in her hand with rage, wishing it had never existed. When Horace had called her name out after collecting the post that morning she knew something was up. She never got mail, ever. None of them did really but on occasion some of the others would get something from a distant relative or a particularly keen friend they had made in another town. Olive, having cut of all connections to her remaining family members and usually keeping to herself, never received post - even Enoch received more that she did. Therefore, when the letter was handed to her she had hurried back to her trailer expecting bad news, not wanting to open her mail in front of the others in case her emotions revealed too much about what was in it. She knew it would be from her parents, her mother's easily recognisable writing was sprawled all over the envelope, but what she couldn't guess was what its contents held. Had an elderly aunt died and they felt morally obliged to let her know? Did they want more money? Had one of them developed their own powers and had written to her asking for forgiveness? No. Of all the theories in her head, she was not prepared for what was in the letter.

Olive was livid.

It took everything in her power not to burn the letter while she had it in her hands but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Her parents had wrote it, touched it. The sentimental value of it was enough to save it from becoming ashes. Crumpling up the source of her misery, Olive threw it on the floor and watched as it rolled to the corner of her quaint trailer. She wasn't used to the anger that was invading her body. She was supposed to be the nice one, the loving one, the calm one - instead all she wished to do was to destroy things.

Against her better judgement, Olive sprang out of her desk chair and stormed out of her trailer in search of someone to rant to. Claire probably didn't know what hit her when she decided to walk up to her with a cheerful smile on her face only to meet Olive's glare, as a result the young girl quickly backed away as Olive continued marching across the grass. Her legs carried her without thinking and it was only when she realised that she was walking towards the Big Top tent that she knew where she instinctually wanted to be.

Hovering outside the tent for longer than necessary, Olive caught up with her thoughts, questioning her motives to see if she really wanted to go in. Why did she want to see him of all people? Emma would probably be better help for her situation, unlike Enoch she actually understood social interactions and would probably be able to calm her down quickly. Instead, Olive had decided to go see the only other person on the site that would happily drown in misery with her.

Deciding to follow her gut, she threw back the entrance to stage area and rushed in, walking straight to the backstage area hoping he would be there and not in his trailer or off doing a random job somewhere. Sure enough, Enoch was hidden in there, peering closely at something while hunched at a desk, brows knotted together in concentration. Olive watched him from afar, choosing her next words carefully and debating how best to start a conversation with the boy but before she got a chance, Enoch beat her to it.

"Did you just come here to bother me?" Enoch routinely asked, not even caring to look up from his work. Somehow he knew who was visiting him without even checking.

Olive let out a loud sigh, expelling as much anger as she could with the breath and folded her arms as she leant against one of the many wooden beams that adorned the area. "I needed to talk to someone."

"I'm not usually the first choice when it comes to that." Enoch replied monotonously before glancing up at Olive finally and she watched as a slight look of concern appeared upon his otherwise neutral face. Despite Enoch's hard exterior, he wasn't going to snap at someone who looked that troubled by something. He wasn't that mean.

She watched him consider her words for a moment, her blood boiling as she waited, desperate to let all her thoughts and frustrations out to remedy her anger. His eyebrow raised slightly, only a few millimetres but it was noticeable nonetheless, as his brown eyes stared at her, carefully calculating the situation. It almost stunned her when he nodded gently, willing to comply to what she wanted - she didn't expect him to welcome her after all the comments he had made the last week about her being irritating.

"If you're going to stay, make yourself useful and pass me that hammer." Enoch awkwardly murmured as he turned back to his work, seemingly as confused as she was about his actions.

Sighing, Olive swung her arms to her sides and walked towards the tool in the middle of the room. She slapped the hammer down into his outstretched hand before unloading her problems onto him. "My parents sent me a letter this morning, said they want to take me back."

"Congratulations." He responded unusually attentively, the small wound on his hand stinging a little due to the force of Olive's actions.

She began to pace, her small heels clicking against the wooden floorboards as she went. If it was under any other circumstances, she'd had felt uncomfortable, like she had to hold in all her emotions to spare others from having to deal with it. But somehow, being only within Enoch's earshot, she was willing to let it all come out. Maybe it was the fact she didn't think he'd care much about what she wanted to say that made her so confident, or maybe it was the fact he was the only person in their gang who would tolerate such negativity. Either way she couldn't complain, letting out her rage would make her feel a lot better.

"I'm not happy about it... They wanted me gone in the first place. They made me leave behind everything that was normal to me! They sold me to strangers! And now they have the audacity to want me back?!"

Olive paused for a second to catch her breath and Enoch, noting her sudden silence behind him, felt it was his cue to say something.

"At least your parents feel remorse..."

His body became tense even by his standards - his shoulders tight, his jaw clenched. If she wasn't filled with rage, she would have noticed that her situation seemed to hit close to home for Enoch. However, being in her current state Enoch's shift in mood went unnoticed to the usually attentive girl.

"I'll never go back to them. My family is here now, with people who won't just abandon me when they feel like it -"

Olive's arms became unglued from her sides as she continued to pace across the floor, slowly becoming more and more expressive as she went.

"-I just can't believe they had the cheek to contact me. They have some nerve. I wish I had burnt down the house before I'd left now."

Enoch stood up from his work which derailed Olive from her rant. Swiftly, he shuffled over to his toolbox and began to search through it, digging down to the bottom to pull out an infrequently used item. She watched him scrupulously as he spun back and offered a small silver object to her.

"What is it?" She started at the item quizzically, recognising the object as a hip flask.

"Rum."

Olive didn't question him any further and took the dull flask from him, hastily unscrewing the top before taking a sip. She could feel his eyes on her, watching her with fascination as he stood only a meter away. She was so enthralled with his close proximity that the burning feeling from the sudden presence of alcohol almost went unnoticed.

"And, to make things even more ridiculous, they explicitly said that it was my fault they sold me in the first place. Because I had a choice in the matter obviously. I just woke up one day and decided to burn whatever my hands touched!-"

Enoch tried his best to hide the smirk that was growing on his face as she continued her yelling. Seeing Olive so uncharacteristically worked up was amusing, Olive and anger did not go together very well.

"-Then they said they'd only take me back if I apologised to my mother for burning her hands - like I didn't do it a million times already!" She took another swig at the rum before carrying on, "Do they really think after all they did to me that I would beg to come back? What do they think I am, a dog?!-"

"-It just makes me so angry that they think I want to go back...Ugh!" Olive fell down onto a nearby wooden box with a thud.

"You done?" Enoch asked with raised eyebrows, there was an undeniable hint of amusement in his voice that lightened Olive's spirits slightly.

Olive could just about see the faint glimpse of a smirk on his lips and she couldn't help but think he'd be rather handsome if he'd actually smiled properly. She supposed that Enoch was very handsome regardless, by far the easiest on the eye out of their company, and she couldn't help but be enamoured by him whenever he happened to look her way. Sensing she had taken too long to answer his question, Olive tried her best to shake off the warm feeling that was spreading across her body (which she told herself was due to the rum).

"Just about..." She managed to squeak out, trying her best not to look at him too much for fear of violently blushing.

"Are you going to reply to them?"

"Nope. They don't deserve the satisfaction." She sighed, deflating her body from the last remaining ounce of anger and leaned forward to rest her face upon her hand, watching him once more at work. "Can I hide in here with you? I'm scared I'm going to argue with anyone who tries to be nice with me."

Enoch didn't look too happy with the idea but she took his lack of protesting as a sign that he didn't mind too much.

Her eyes followed him as he went back to his desk and her mind began to wonder. A small, but very vocal, part of her was beginning to speculate if Emma had been correct. Her mind had automatically taken her to see him for a reason, and maybe that reason wasn't as simple as just wanting someone to be miserable with. She certainly felt a bit gooey whenever she was around him and she had read enough romance novels to know that was a sign that you liked someone. Even she couldn't deny how commonly she got flushed when he was around; There was definitely an attraction there but that didn't mean she wanted to drag him to the privacy behind the storage trailer and snog him hidden from the prying eyes of their friends...

Taking another sip of the rum he'd given her, she boldly pushed herself up from where she had landed and made her way over to see if he needed any she was going to stay there, she may as well make herself useful.


	7. Of Crushes and Flirting

It was undeniable - she was well and truly crushing on Enoch O'Connor.

Ever since it dawned on her that Emma may have been right about her feelings, the thought of fancying Enoch grew in her mind until in became all she could think about. He made her pulse raise, his grumpiness inadvertently made her smile, and the thought of being able to call her his made her feel a warmth she had never experienced before. She had fallen for him, and fallen hard. However, the last time she had properly fancied someone was the boy who lived on the next street from her parents years ago and she was soon discovering what crushing on someone meant as a seventeen year old girl.

It was sinful really, and she probably should pray for forgiveness for it but Olive couldn't help the burning sensation she got whenever she thought about him. She wanted to kiss him, snog him senseless whenever he just looked at her. Too often she had found herself daydreaming about pulling him away from what he was working on to drag him somewhere even more private and have her way with him. There were even some unholy times she thought about other things, marital things, things that a girl as pristine as her shouldn't be thinking about. It scared her to think that she had had such ungodly thoughts about someone she barely knew - they talked, but the only thing she knew about him was the basics that everyone knew.

Olive spent every day helping him now, always wiling to pass him whatever he needed, watching as he - they - made both the fun things and the boring things. They were a team - he the marvellous magician and her his assistant, diligently watching as he turned even the most inanimate objects into something special. She'd never forget seeing him give life to whatever he wished - it was amazing. To have such power over life like that was a wonderful ability. All she had was some fire in her hands that meant she probably had to wear gloves for the rest of her life.

It was common knowledge around camp now that you could usually find them together and Olive had assumed that Enoch would have been uncomfortable with this reputation but thus far, he didn't seem too bothered. The sly comments about what exactly the two spent their day doing was however getting to him - to both of them really. Victor and Hugh appeared to be particularly on his back about it and if Olive had to sit through one more conversation with Emma about Enoch she'd might consider slapping her. They were many questions about their sudden friendship, all of which Olive didn't want to answer - there was something quite nice about being the only one knowing much about him.

Enoch was starting to look more and more troubled about something every day. He'd turn up to breakfast unshaven, he'd snap at things that he wouldn't usually snap at, and he just looked sad all the time. Olive was beginning to get concerned not just for his emotions but for his physical health - he looked weak. It surprised her that he hadn't pushed her away yet. She thought that with his mood deteriorating as much as it had she would have been the first to go - they did spend the best part of everyday together after all. The fact her company was still tolerated by Enoch seemed like a miracle.

Olive usually stayed with him for the entire day and she loved every minute of it - she came after she'd finished her chores and had breakfast and left after dinner to go get ready for the show. They only really took a break for her to go fetch the two of them some lunch whenever someone shouted it was ready. Admittedly, she didn't want to be anywhere else but in his company and got excited every morning at the thought of spending the rest of the day with him.

That day she almost skipped towards the tent, excited to be in the same room as him and his dark brooding good looks. She was well aware that nothing would happen between them, even with the knowledge that he did not like Emma that way. Enoch had never shown the slightest hint that he would ever think of her that way so she told herself there was no point getting her hopes up for it. Instead, she was content just to spend her days in his company, admiring him from afar while she waited for the crush to blow over.

Surprisingly, when she arrived that day she was surprised to hear someone else already there, chatting to Enoch. It was clear from Enoch low grumbling he was not impressed with that whoever it was. Peaking through the doors of the tent, she noticed the distinguishable floating hat of Millard, hovering in front of a clearly displeased looking Enoch. As if by clockwork, his eyes flashed up to meet hers the second she glided in the room, looking at her over the top of Millard and expressed his displeasure at the situation...So piercing was his look that Olive had to check that she wasn't visibly swooning.

"Is this because I asked to take a look at your girlfriend's powers? I'm really sorry if it offended you." Millard's voice was shaky.

Olive's breath caught in her throat. She wasn't his girlfriend, she was well aware of that, but for some reason the prospect of hearing Enoch's next words made a heart beat a little faster.

His eyes flicked back down to the boy, glaring at where he assumed his face to be. "Sod off." Enoch spat, more sour sounding then she'd ever heard him sound before. He was in a bad mood, a really awful mood, and Olive was unsure how best to deal with it.

Millard scurried off without another word, brushing past her as he went leaving the two of them alone. Enoch stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets and looked at her expectedly.

"Er, I brought you some bread...You weren't at breakfast." Olive managed to force out despite being incredibly flustered.

"Thanks." He replied with as much sincerity as he could muster.

Despite his cutting tone and sulking, Olive was pleased to see he was at least trying not to be mean to her. It was nice to know that he thought high enough of her not to subject her to his moodiness. Felling a little bolder knowing that he was attempting to be as nice as he could, she shook off her nervousness and tried to be as normal as she could. Hopefully acting like there was nothing wrong with him would make him feel better at least.

"That wasn't a very nice - scaring Millard like that." Olive scolded, half playfully half seriously, while running a gloved hand across the top of the chairs as she made her way towards him.

"How many times do you have to be told I'm not a nice person?"

Coming to a stop in front of him, she held out the bread she stolen from the breakfast table, blushing profusely from his steady gaze.

"I wouldn't say that - You're a tolerable person."

"That's generous."

He took the bread from her and spun on his heels, walking away even more sluggish than usual. "Anyway, I don't trust him, asking all those questions, asking to study us..."

Following quick behind him, Olive tried to reason with him. His aversion towards Millard wasn't okay and it was certainly uncalled for - the boy had done nothing wrong to him. "His aunt was the mayoress that came the other week, she gave Miss Peregrine a generous sum to take him off her hands."

"Lucky us." Enoch muttered curtly, the circles under his eyes looking more black in the dim lighting than they must really be. It almost broke her heart to see him so dejected. Enoch never was the life of the party but he wasn't usually this gloomy.

"What are we making now?" She tried to smile, hoping it could help cheer him slightly.

"Miss Peregrine wants a new pulley system to stop Emma flying off, the other one is knackered." He slumped down into his chair, rested his face in his hands, and sighed.

"Oh, okay." Olive pressed on, attempting as best she could take his mind off of whatever was bothering him. "Had you always been pretty handy?"

"I suppose so."

"Sometimes I get jealous of you. It all gets very complicated when you wear gloves all the time."

"Why don't you try then?" He dropped one hand from his face and turned his head to look at her.

Olive felt his eyes on her once again and could help notice the fluttering feeling in her stomach. Feeling the sudden need to sit down the girl was forced to perch on a box directly in his line of vision. She really need to get over him, even she thought it was getting pathetic how badly she got in his presence.

"Try what?

"Taking off your gloves."

His stare was getting intense; he was watching her with such severity that she was sure she was going to melt.

Olive couldn't help but notice the strand of hair that had fallen onto his face that she desperately needed to push away for him. She bit her lip, forcing back any feverish thoughts that may have entered her brain, only to have more enter it as she saw his eyes dip down and notice her actions.

"I've already told you, I'm scared..." She somehow managed to stutter out, watching as a his lips began to turn up slightly and a look of amusement spread across his face. "What?"

"Nothing." Enoch quickly turned his face away from her, not wanting to be seen showing any emotion other than boredom.

The smirk on his face was almost foreign to Olive, it had been so long since she'd seen him supporting anything other than a constant grimace.

"What are you smirking at?" Olive shyly teased, content that his mood was brightening just a little.

"You're just so hard to please. You don't want to wear gloves, you don't want to take them off..." One of Enoch's eyebrows shot up as he begun to drum his fingers on the table next to him.

"Well, you say you don't want a friend, but here you are talking to me. I'd say you were pretty hard to please also."

"Not like I have a choice in the matter." He scoffed.

"I don't see you running away."

Enoch tried to force down his smile, biting his cheek and quickly busied himself with his work, eager to stay well away from talking about his emotions.

And then it dawned on her and her cheeks turned a ghastly shade of red in just a few seconds.

Enoch O'Connor was _flirting_.


	8. Of Teasing and Disasters

"I see someone is looking cheerier than usual. I take it Olive finally got you out of your mood."

Victor fell into the chair across from him at breakfast with a grin on his face. Enoch had been feeling better, he'd managed to sleep through the majority of the night which was a clear sign his mood was beginning to pick up but Victor's smug look almost sent him back into his perpetual wallowing. Clearly he was suggesting that Olive had tried to brighten his spirits by doing something other than talking with him and Enoch wasn't too sure how he felt about Victor's forwardness. He didn't like knowing that someone else was thinking of Olive in that way, even if they were thinking about her doing the things with him and him alone.

He was getting too over protective of the girl, but as much as he tried to stop himself from caring so much, she did something that brought it all back. There was just something so peculiar about Olive that made him completely enamoured. She was haunting. It only took seeing her for a few seconds for him to forget all his problems - there was a reason he had allowed her to spend every day with him. He suspected that was something else was at hand in his decision; he was beginning to think he was developing feelings for the girl. It scared him. This wasn't him, he didn't do feelings. He didn't think it was possible for someone as icy as he to hold affections for anyone else but somehow Olive made it possible.

He needed her brightness like he needed air.

"Shut it." Enoch spluttered a little too aggressively than was normal – even for him.

Anxiously he glanced around the room to see if anyone was listening in. It was early, most people not yet out of bed yet so the room was much less crowded than it would be half an hour later. He already knew he was safe from Olive overhearing; he had noticed she wasn't in the tent the moment he had walked in. Millard, on the other hand, was hovering too close to them for Enoch's liking – he really didn't tolerate nor trust the new boy yet. He asked too many questions, especially towards Olive which hadn't gone unnoticed by him.

"You actually like her, don't you?"

He wanted to protest it. As much as he knew he could trust Victor not to say anything, he'd much prefer to be the only person who knew what was going on inside his head. But the two used to be close, and Victor knew him almost as well as he knew himself. There was no point hiding from him.

"So?"

He didn't want to like her, or anyone for that matter, but he did. Olive had crept up on him, inspiring emotions in him he had never felt before and somehow, he found himself acting without little thought around her. In his own odd way, he'd found himself flirting with her on more than one occasion. He couldn't help it, she just made him feel a little bit better about himself that he felt the desire to be a little more suggestive and playful with her. It frightened him - how he acted towards her was instinctual. He figured it would happen at some point in his life, even he wasn't cynical enough to doubt there wasn't someone out their who would catch his eye, but being confronted with all these strange new feelings was overwhelming.

"Enoch likes a girl. This is new territory."

The sharp scowl Enoch sent his way was enough to stop Victor from his teasing. He may have been in a better mood that usual, but that didn't mean he was ready to endure his playfulness again.

"...Sorry, I'll stop it."

Enoch went to fiddle with the remains of his breakfast, pushing his food around his plate as a way to distract himself from the awkwardness of the conversation. Victor was still staring at him, a serious look on his face and Enoch raised an eyebrow to question it.

"Don't push her away Enoch."

Enoch was not expecting such a sombre statement and was forced into silence, unsure of where the conversation was heading. Victor clearly wanted a deep and meaningful conversation out of him but will all that was still going on in his head, Enoch didn't think he was willing to give one.

"Most people would say I spent too much time with her." He grumbled, attempting to keep it as light hearted as he could manage which wasn't very effective considering it was him.

"You know what I mean. If you want this to work, let her in."

"I don't even let you in, and I actually like you."

Victor smirked, thinking of the perfect responsive that he knew would make the other boy blush. "Well you don't want to kiss me..."

"Enoch, you've got a letter."

A slightly flustered Enoch flashed a sarcastic smile at Victor as he counted his lucky stars that Horace had given him an excuse to leave the conversation and turned to take the letter. However, his smile was quickly wiped off his face when he realised what had just been handed to him.

He knew it was bad news the moment he saw his father's sharp writing on the envelope - he'd been expecting it for a while. He could feel his emotions trying to boil out of him - anger, sadness, despair, relief - and he tried his very best to keep everything in. Tightening his jaw, he cast a weary look to Victor, warning him not to question the contents of his letter before taking off, leaving his unfinished breakfast behind him at the table.

In a bid to pretend that nothing was wrong, his legs carried him over to his workspace, albeit a lot quicker than usual. He wanted to be out of sight, away from anyone who could glance over and see that he was somewhat distressed. As much as he enjoyed Olive's company, he was praying that she wasn't going to be in the tent that early. Usually she went to go see Claire in the mornings and help her get ready so he knew he should have a good half an hour to try and sort his mind out before she came and bothered him.

As soon as he entered the tent, he reached down to open the envelope but stopped himself when he realised what he was doing. While he trusted Olive not to be there at that time, he needed to check – she was one of the last people he'd want to see him in such a state.

"Olive?"

Enoch waited a second to listen for a response and took the silence that followed as confirmation that she wasn't in there. Anxiously, he tore open the seal of the letter, scared of what he he knew would be inside. He only had to read the first few lines to confirm he was right. The evitable news had come.

Enoch didn't know what he was feeling or how to decipher his emotions. He was angry, he was devastated but also he felt relief, like a huge weight had been lifted from him. Part of him felt guilty for letting himself start to feel better, that the reason the news had come that day was to punish him for not having it on his mind constantly. What ever he was feeling, he let himself succumb to the emotions, as stoic as he was, even Enoch could hold back the tidal wave of grief that came over him.

He didn't realise he was crying until he felt his own tears dripping in to his hand. He hasn't cried since he'd been a little boy, his dad used to beat him whether he did, expressing to him that boys weren't allowed to cry. Enoch knew that way of thinking was obsolete but he still had been conditioned by it anyway. Collapsing into one of the seats in the audience, Enoch couldn't be bother to stifle his tears and let it all out.

He didn't know how long her sat there, staring at the first few lines of his letter, not bothering to read the rest. It must have been a long time as he heard the cold December wind slowly increase its gusto and begin to batter the tent wall. It was only when he heard the familiar clanking of heels that he came back to reality. Quickly, he began to clean his face in the attempt to try and cover up what he was doing even though he realised it would be pointless.

He knew it was Olive - he knew her footsteps.

"Are you alright? What's wrong?"

He heard the worry in her voice as she came to a halt next to him. Enoch's hands flew up to wipe his eyes before flashing Olive a dirty look. He didn't want her there, he wasn't ready to share that much with her yet. Maybe one day, he could definitely see him being able to open up with her eventually, but he was far from that at the moment. He was too insecure, too hateful of himself and his own emotions to drag her into his life with them.

"Enoch, what's wrong?"

Her hand carefully grasped his shoulder, trying not to startle him with the sudden comfort but she had done. Her hands were warm, even through the gloves, and he wasn't quite sure if that was due to her powers or his feelings for her. In any other circumstances he would have enjoyed the contact, he may have even tried his best at flirting with her as he knew that was the normal thing to do when you liked someone. However, it was not the time for innocent flirtation and he shook off her hand as quickly as she had placed it on him.

"Leave me alone."

He aggressively stood up, and was prepared to stare down Olive until she left his space. She looked stunned, and was peering up at him with wide, determined eyes. Enoch could tell that she was fearful of him, he knew how destructive he could be when he was not willing to cooperate. But just when he thought she was going to back away from him, her hands went sternly to her hips, matching the stubbornness he was expelling.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

Her stare was becoming piercing and was beginning to make him incredibly uncomfortable. He wasn't quite sure how a girl as innocent and nice as she was could become such a strict and strong-willed woman when ever she wanted. Once minute she was as intimidating as little Claire was, the next she was nearing Miss Peregrine's level.

"Why can't you must back off and let me be! Must you always be so intrusive." Enoch barked. He felt like he was being backed into a corner and he did not like it one bit.

"I'm just trying to be a friend."

"Yeah well, I'm not your friend. Never have been and never will be. I don't even like you!"

"I know you don't mean that..." She murmured sadly. She knew he didn't mean it, he knew he didn't mean it, but he had still said it and it had still hurt.

"No you don't, you don't know me at all!"

Enoch felt a new stream of tears falling onto his cheeks and he could tell from how her expression had softened that she had noticed it also. He hated how he was being but he just couldn't stop himself from erupting, he just wanted so desperately to be alone.

"Then tell me."

Assertively, he took a step closer to her, hoping that he could intimidate her into leaving him in peace.

"Piss off Olive. Mind your own business for once." He snarled at her, no longer caring what she thought of him. He just so desperately needed her to leave him be. He knew he'd later regret his words to her but he said them anyway, because he was an unpleasant person and that was what unpleasant people did.

Before he had chance to protest he was surrounded by Olive and the warmth that came with her. Slowly, her hands found their way around his shoulders and he immediately tensed up, unfamiliar to being touched in such a comforting way. He felt pressure on the back of his neck as she pulled him closer, her warmth spreading through him like flames. Their closeness was all he could think about. The sensation of her head against his shoulder, her hands like little heaters across his shoulders, her hips deliberately not touching him but close enough to still sense. The movement was overwhelming so much so that his previous thoughts got momentarily lost in the back of his brain. Letting out the air he didn't realise he had been holding in, he relaxed into her grip, and chose to ignore the small lingering though in his head that he should push her away. Without really thinking, one of his hands had snaked its way around her waist to rest at the small of her back, leaving the other limp at his side, still holding the letter. It was nice holding her close, like he was finally satisfying a craving he had been unknowingly experiencing for a long time. He wasn't aware of how long he stayed wrapped around her, all he knew was that he felt warm and safe, and just a little bit better about the whole situation.

Someone had to be the first one to move away and break their connection and surprisingly it wasn't Enoch. Olive had leaned away slightly, enough to look up at him with sadness in her eyes. He could tell she cared and cared too much than was probably best for her. He was catastrophic, but what she had was pure and didn't deserve to be tainted by him. Yet, despite his head telling her to push her away before she gets hurt, he wanted her - needed her - to be close to him once more. She was a drug, she took his mind off of all of his problems just by being there, and he desired nothing more than to stay like that with her all day.

She stared up at him ardently and Enoch couldn't help but notice how light her eyes were. How flawless her skin was. How she had a gentle speckling of freckles on her cheeks that he had never noticed before. How her lips were just the perfect shape...

Suddenly, he felt like kissing her.

So he did.


	9. Of Kissing and Confessions

The second his lips came into contact with hers, Olive froze.

His kiss was as clumsy as it was unexpected. It was warm, it was possessive, it was just so Enoch. Instantly, she became aware of every inch of her body, from the feeling of his tear stained cheeks against hers, to the way her hands at his neck ached to take her gloves off and feel the softness of his curls there. It only took a millisecond for her to return the pressure of his lips, one hand falling down from his shoulder as she left it to rest against his chest, concentrating on the slightly raised heartbeat she found there. From his nervousness, Olive suspected he had not kissed someone before or at least he hadn't in a long time but she didn't care, she wasn't an expert herself so she couldn't expect him to be. Without thinking, her eyes fell closed, savouring every last second of the kiss even though it was a prominent thought in her brain that this was not good timing.

After what felt like a lifetime, Enoch abruptly pulled away, dropping his arm from around her and attempted to twist out of her grasp. He looked stunned, confused by his own actions, and Olive thought there was a hint of frightened in there too. It was clear he wasn't expecting himself to do that, at all, and while the surprise had been welcomed by her, it seemed to have been rather overwhelming for him.

If he wasn't trapped by the line of chairs behind him, she knew he would have tried to run away from her and what had just happened. For a moment he just stared at her stared, eyes wide in panic and not giving away any of his emotions other than shock. As abruptly as he had pulled away, his eyes snapped down to the floor and suddenly he wasn't able to look at her any longer. His hands feverishly ran their way through his hair as his breathing became louder, almost to a pant. He was terrified.

"Sorry - I shouldn't have – I -"

"- Don't worry about it." All thoughts of their previous actions left her head as it dawned on her that he was close to having a mental breakdown if he had not yet experienced one. He looked frazzled and his eyes were darting around the room like he was seeing things that weren't there. She knew if any part of her mind was dwelling on kissing Enoch, she would be being selfish. It had felt good, but the dismay he was display was enough to erase all thoughts completely. "Are you okay Enoch?"

"No." He managed to gasp out, his breathing getting more and more heavier at every pant.

Olive had seen people in this state before, which she believed it to be the beginnings of a panic attack, but all she knew about it was that the quicker she could calm him down the better. Gently she placed a hand on his arm and squeezed, carefully reminding him that she was there.

"Come on, lets sit down."

Enoch didn't look up at her, just nodded his head slightly before allowing her to guide him into the nearest chair. Immediately, his elbows fell to his knees and he cradled his head there, staring down at the pieces of grass that were sticking through the planks of wood him and Victor had spent almost an entire morning setting up when they had first arrived there.

Olive cautiously moved to perch next to him, careful not to startle him further. She thought about hugging him again, pulling him close until he started to feel better but she was scared that would only push him away instead. He was out of his comfort zone, the least he would want was someone trying to smother him in hugs until he felt better. Deciding instead to take a less offensive approach, Olive gently placed a hand between his broad shoulders and tried her hardest to expel the perfect amount of heat needed for optimum comfort. Slowly, she drew her hand across his back, deliberately tracing wide circles as she felt his muscles relax underneath her hand. She didn't care to notice how long she sat next of him (she'd have happily done it all day if he needed her to) but it only seemed to take a couple of minutes before his breathing returned to a more normal pace and he began to move around again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Olive softly asked, sensing he was ready to communicate once more without his hysteria making a comeback.

"No."

His reply was short but with a much more definite tone than previously. Content that he was retreating to his normal Enoch-ness, Olive decided not to push him further; she trusted that if he wanted to talk, he would say so.

"Okay...Is there anything I can do?" Olive question him, her hand coming to a halt on his shoulder as she waited for a response.

As timidly as it was possible for Enoch to be, he turned his head to peer at her curiously. She noted that his crying had long stopped but the effects it had had upon his skin were still there and his eyes were puffy and his cheeks red– she suspected from the violent effects it had that his sudden burst of emotion was a long time coming. He swallowed determinedly like he was repressing his feelings once more and stared at her so intensely that it made her forget where she was.

"Just distract me."

At first she thought he was asking her to kiss him again but the dejected look on his face suggested that he wasn't. He needed her to distract him, to make him forget, to calm the storm of feelings that was occurring in his head.

Standing up with slightly too much relish than was appropriate, she smiled delicately down at him and gestured him to stand up with her. "Come on then, lets go see what we need to get do today."

She attempted to reach down and grab his hand but Enoch quickly moved it away from her as he stood, no longer wanting any more physical contact from her. While it saddened her that his defensive walls had been rebuilt, even she could admit how lovely it was to observe he was slowly returning to his usual grouchy self. Seeing him in such a bad condition had shaken her to the core, Enoch was one of the last people she thought she'd see displaying so much emotion and all that negativity had frightened her.

He began to shove the piece of paper he had been grasping so tightly in his hand into his pocket and out of her sight. The letter had been there the entire time and she had yet to noticed the offending item. It was evident to Olive that this was probably the reason behind his sudden deterioration that day and made a note not to ask him about it or any other letters he may receive in the near future.

"You know, Miss Peregrine's thinking about moving us again. She says the people here are getting too familiar... She's thinking somewhere around Nottingham but Horace says he's been dreaming about the Blackpool tower. Bet that will be fun, we could go to one of the piers – Claire would love that!" Olive chattered aimlessly as the two of the made their way over to the workspace that was beginning to feel comfortably familiar to her.

Claire would indeed love playing on one of Blackpool's famous piers, Olive could already picture the young girl's wide grin as she discovered yet another fun thing she could do there. Even though she knew Enoch would hate every second of it, she also couldn't help imagining hanging off of Enoch's arm and walking with him along the promenade, listening to him grumble and moan about every little thing that displeased him. Blackpool would be an enjoyable adventure, and going on a date with Enoch was an even more enjoyable thought.

As she attempted to return her mind from the land of her imagination, Enoch had moved ahead of her and into the space that she had begun to refer to as 'theirs'. There was a pile of wood in the corner of the room and Enoch began to shift it around, moving pieces from one stack to another till he found one the right size her was looking for. Olive wasn't quite sure what he was up to, she had suspected that he would have wanted to make a new creature or some other fun thing to take his mind off of things but from his actions, it seemed he wanted to do the mundane chores instead.

As silence fell over them once more, Olive desperately began searching her head for something else to talk about, something to fill the void and, more importantly, distract him from whatever he was feeling. It was only then that she remembered that she needed to ask him about something Miss Peregrine had mentioned in passing days before. Their guardian had commented on the fact that it was Enoch's birthday soon, his eighteenth, and that she had needed someone to take over her teaching duties while she travelled into the town to get something for him. Olive had only been with them just over a year so could only remember one of Enoch's birthdays but even she knew that he didn't allow for anyone to make a big deal out of it - now that she thought about it, no one had tried to anyway. Maybe it was because he was turning eighteen that Miss Peregrine wanted to do something special, or maybe she had sensed there had been something seriously bothering Enoch those past few weeks and had decided to treat him. Either way, Olive perceived that was as good a sign as any that maybe this year Enoch would be willing to at least acknowledge he was a year older and allow her to buy him a gift; if Miss Peregrine could do it, surely she, someone who actually spent a lot of time with him, could do so too.

Walking further into the room, Olive watched his movements over his shoulder, interested to see what he was attempting to do by moving wood around. She could tell from the glimpses she got of his face that he was determined to make himself as busy as possible, so much so that it seemed he had already forgotten she was even in the room so she cleared her throat before asking, "Isn't it your birthday soon? I remember Miss Peregrine saying something at breakfast the other day."

"Yeah, next week." Enoch murmured nonchalantly as he grabbed one tiny piece of wood and took his seat at the desk, not even bothering to acknowledge her presence close to him.

"May ask what day?"

"Wednesday." His grumble was so muffled that it took Olive a moment to register what he had just said.

If her calculations were correct, that gave her little under a week to buy Enoch something for his birthday which she was certainly going to do whether he protested it or not. She wanted to do something nice for him, especially after she had seen the state he had been in only minutes previously. Giving him a gift would show him she cared and, besides, becoming eighteen was a big deal worth honouring - he would be old enough for most people to consider him an adult, he was going to be eligible to conscription to the army, he could leave Miss Peregrine's care whenever he wanted...

And then quietly, almost as if he was trying not to disturb the peace that hung in the air despite the severity of his news, he let her in.

"My mum died."

She felt awkward. All she could manage to do was stare at him pitifully, her mouth agape trying to form the right words to say to him. It was obvious that whatever had disturbed him was something significant but she was not expecting that.

"Oh." Was all the words Olive could create in response.

"I don't want to talk about it...Just thought you should know." He trailed off, focusing even more intensely on his work and tried his best to forget he had told her anything.

Olive stood over his shoulder aghast, the cogs in her brain had begun to decipher the situation and the unforeseen news Enoch had just bestowed on her. She knew it was a big deal for him to share something like that with her, and she was grateful for it, but that didn't help her to cope with the shock of what she had just heard. Her mind was instantaneously drawn back to the letter she knew he'd got hidden in his pocket and deduced that it must have been that which had bore the bad news to Enoch, he had held it like it was his most prized possession and a curse at the same time. That news would explain the sudden barrage of emotion he had been displaying - the news had devastated him. It would have devastated her, and up until recently she had had no contact from her mother whatsoever. She supposed Enoch had not had much experience with emotional pain, he was certainly a deep thinker and his thoughts were far from jolly, but from the way he had handled himself, she knew he had no clue how to cope with his overflowing emotions. Enoch was a suppressor, and the moment he could no longer restrict his feelings, he just fell apart.

All she could do for him now was be there, and that was exactly what she was determined to do.


End file.
